Growing up as a kid, I had many slumber parties.

Most Saturday nights, I would have one of my friends sleepover and on Saturday mornings, my dad would let us ride the four-wheelers around the holding pond next to our house, while he mowed grass. But, every friend knew once he finished mowing grass, he would be available to drive us down the road, into the woods, and over to the eerie Hattie’s shack.

Hattie’s shack was a worn-down, old wooden shack nestled in the woods at the end of the cul-de-sac. My dad told all the girls that Hattie and her husband lived there, but one day some kids were messing around and set the place on fire, burning down her shack, so now she haunts little children.

To this day, I have no idea if anyone ever lived in this abandoned shack, but old pieces of mail were everywhere. The place was truly abandoned. It was like someone rushed out of there and took nothing. There were no bedrooms, it was just one open space- no furniture, no smell of burnt wood. But, I never questioned my dad’s story.

As I grew older, more of my friends came to know the legend of Hattie’s shack and that is how Hattie became the legend she is on Halloween.

I was in fourth grade and my parents were hosting a Halloween party for my sister and me. We had friends coming over in costume and there was going to be a hayride, dinner, and all the candy you could ask for.

After hours of riding around, collecting candy, the girls gathered together and asked the question that would change the night. “Can you take us to Hattie’s shack?”

It was dark, but I have no doubt my dad had on some smirk.

“On Halloween? Her ghost is always out on Halloween!”

We weren’t scared.

What happened between the time we asked and arrived at Hattie’s shack will always be a mystery to me, but after dropping my sister and her friends back at the house with my mom, my dad drove us down to Hattie’s shack to take a peak around.

Everything was going normal until the door to Hattie’s shack slammed shut.

We all ran to the center of the room. One of my more fearless friends assured me it was just the wind.

So, we kept on tiptoeing around, looking for any signs that Hattie had returned to her shack on Halloween night.

That’s when it happened.

A face at the window and some tap tap tapping.

The tapping became louder and we heard someone outside. We had to get out, but the door was stuck; it was jammed.

As we all pushed the door open together, a figure in the dark started running toward us, one of my friends fell, and another started crying. We tried to get my friend up, but others took off running back toward my house. They couldn’t even bother to get back in the safety of my dad’s truck.

Or, what we thought was the safety of my dad’s truck.

The figure started coming toward the truck. My dad insisted we roll down the window and try and talk to Hattie, and explain what we were doing.

We were begging my dad to drive away; we had to get out of here, but he wasn’t moving!

What was he doing?

The masked figure was moving closer and closer, all we could see was a black outline.

As the figure approached my dad’s truck, we all began cowering, until my Uncle Steve, my dad’s brother took off the mask and started laughing with my dad.

To us, nothing about the situation was funny. But, they thought they were the ultimate jokesters.

When we all arrived back at the house, a girl was putting a bandaid on her knee from falling then my mom saw Steve walk in and just shook her head.

“It was all a joke?” Some girl said relieved, but still whimpering.

My dad and uncle assured us tonight may have been a joke, but Hattie was still out there somewhere.

My family eventually moved out of the neighborhood, but I pray for the young kids who live there now and may or may not be haunted by Hattie this Halloween.